


All the Little Moments

by eagle_ace



Category: Life of the Party D&D (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Kind of a character study, also a little bit of angst, like really really soft, not very much but a little, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eagle_ace/pseuds/eagle_ace
Summary: This is really just a study in character dynamics with a lot of fluff. Each chapter is a different pair of party members having a moment.
Relationships: Cassian/Vanden (Life of the Party), Everyone & Everyone
Kudos: 8





	1. Boblem & Astra

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on this! Hope you enjoy! I'll try to update frequently, but no promises.

The plants in Boblem’s garden were flourishing beautifully. He’d taken to sitting outside with them, tending needlessly to the soil and leaves, but also just talking. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he missed the farm. There was a comfort in gardening, a return to the familiar. He was talking to the plants now, telling Timberly all about his grandparents (Timberly’s great grandparents), in a quiet voice.

“Mind if I sit with you?” came a voice from behind him.

Boblem looked up. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be out here, and he certainly hadn’t heard anyone approach. Astra was standing behind him, lute on his back. “Oh!” said Boblem, “I didn’t hear you come over! But, yeah, you can sit with me.”

Gracefully, Astra sat down beside him. “Would you mind if I play some music for them?” he asked, “My mum has a song that she always played for plants to help them grow.”

“Is it a spell?” asked Boblem.

“No, I don’t think so. At least not the kind one might think of.”

Boblem nodded, “My grandparents always did say that talking to plants makes them stronger. Maybe it’s like that.”

“Maybe,” Astra agreed. “So I can play it then?”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead. I’d love to hear it! And I’m sure Timberly and the others would too.”

Astra pulled his lute around and began to strum a chord. “Do the others have names too?” he asked.

“Some of them do,” Boblem replied, “But I haven’t come up with names for all of ‘em yet.”

“You’ll have to tell me their names sometime,” Astra replied. With that, he began to sing.

The song was in sylvan, and Boblem didn’t understand the words, but he could still almost feel their meaning. The lyrics made him think of spring rains and warm soil, of sunshine and greenery. The simple melody Astra plucked out on his lute was upbeat yet calming. It reminded Boblem of home, and his Grandma’s sweet tea. 

When the song finished, the plants seemed to bloom a little brighter, and Boblem himself felt as though his homesickness had abated slightly. “Do you miss her?” Boblem asked, “Your mom?”

“Sometimes,” Astra replied.

“Yeah. I miss my grandparents sometimes too.”

“Don’t worry, sapling. You’ll come back to them eventually. Just because the leaves fall from the trees in autumn doesn’t mean they won’t grow back in the spring.”

He nodded. “You’re right.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Boblem spoke again, pointing towards the plants, “So, should I tell ya their names?” 

“I’d like that.”


	2. Vanden & Elyse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say that this chapter is partially inspired by exhaustedwerewolf's fic 'stuck in gravity, clawing for some bravery'. It's a fantastic piece which you should definitely go read. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, sorry if my interpretation of Vanden's thoughts on his wings is completely ooc. I don't really know what was going on in his head.

Elyse stood at the highest point of the roof of the barracks. It was early still, sunlight barely reaching onto the rooftops of Shadebourne. She doubted that anyone else was awake yet. There was something about mornings that she’d always loved. Maybe it was the promise of a fresh start, or something about seeing a sunrise—not that there was any sunrise to see here. She could only imagine that beyond the mountains, the sky was painted every shade of pink and orange.

The sound of a door closing in the courtyard below startled her, and she very nearly slipped. Righting herself, Elyse turned and looked down. Vanden stood in the center of the courtyard, completely still. Carefully, Elyse made her way down from the roof. Vanden turned at the sound of her feet hitting the ground.

“Good morning,” she offered.

He quickly arranged his face into a pleasant smile, only the slightest flicker of. . . sadness, maybe, across it. “Good morning, Elyse.”

“What are you doing up so early?”

“I. . . I was thinking about trying the wings, but. . .” 

“I can go!” Elyse replied immediately, “I’m sorry if I—”

“No. It’s not you.”

Softer this time, she asked, “What is it, then?”

“I guess that maybe I. . . don’t want to use them? Like, maybe I just don’t want to acknowledge that I have this. . . this thing that I don’t even understand. It’s just so. . .”

“Scary, because you don’t really know where it came from, but it seems like maybe it’s been there all along,” Elyse finished.

“Yes,” Vanden sounded a bit surprised, “That’s it exactly.”

“I know what it’s like,” she said, “But I think that maybe I’m different from you because rather than avoid it all together I just keep trying to use it more.”

“Why do you?” he asked.

“I just want to understand it so badly, and I want to be able to master it. I feel like I have to be able to understand.”

“I don’t think I want to understand.” There was a long pause, but Elyse didn’t break it. “If I understand it, that will make it real. And I don’t want this! I never asked for it! I just wish it wasn’t there at all.” The desperation was clear in his voice.

“It is there, though, Vanden, and no amount of wishing will make it go away. That doesn’t mean you have to use it all the time, or that you have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but you should at least acknowledge it. Things are less scary when you give them a name.”

“Yeah,” he looked down at his hands, “The funny thing is that I  _ do  _ want to understand in some ways, but at the same time I don’t.”

“I can’t claim to know what that’s like. I’ve always wanted to understand.” She laughed softly. “Even at cost to myself.”

Gently, Vanden placed his hands on her shoulders. “Elyse,” he began, “You are incredible, and talented, and one of the most powerful people I have ever met. So please,  _ please  _ be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you, and no amount of knowledge would be worth that. Don’t push yourself to far; I wouldn’t want you to fall over the edge.”

She smiled at him. “You know, Cassian said something very similar to me a little while back.”

“Well, sometimes he’s smarter than we give him credit for.”

“Better not let him hear you say that; it’ll go straight to his head,” she laughed.

He chuckled a bit too. “Definitely don’t tell him. We can’t have him thinking he’s not entirely insufferable.”

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”

He took his hands off her shoulders and put an arm around her. “Let’s go inside. We don’t want to miss out on Boblem’s cooking.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and pulled away. “Not going to try the wings, then?”

He grimaced a bit. “I. . .”

“Please don’t get mad,” Elyse began hesitantly, “I’m only saying this because I care about you a lot.” He nodded, giving her permission to continue. “I really think you should just try them. I mean, you’ve used them before in battle! How different can it be? Anyway, you said it yourself: you do it want to understand, and there’s absolutely nothing bad that could happen if you tried right now.”

He was quiet for a moment, not meeting her eyes. “All right. Fine.” His tone was annoyed, but his face portrayed gratefulness.  _ He just needed a push in the right direction, _ Elyse thought.

“I’ll go,” she said, smiling at him and turning to leave.

“No—stay,” he said hurriedly, then added, “I mean, if you want to, that is. I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” she sat down against the wall of the barracks.

It was another minute before he released the wings, flooding the courtyard in a faint golden glow. Within seconds, he’d pushed off the ground. He didn’t fly much higher than the barracks roof, doing slow loops around the courtyard. His wings, she saw, still glowed faintly orange-gold, and his cheeks flushed pale pink as he laughed in a surprised sort of joy. Elyse found herself laughing with him. She’d found her sunrise. 


	3. Astra & Cassian

Astra carefully played the gentle melody of the song he’d written, singing the words under his breath. He finally felt like he might actually be done with it. If he was honest with himself, it had been as good as done for nearly a week. He’d made nothing more than the tiniest changes since, most of which had then been changed back. He supposed that really the problem was that he wasn’t sure he wanted to share it. After all, once he declared the song finished, he should play it for the others, shouldn’t he? No, it wasn’t finished because it wasn’t good enough for them. They wouldn’t like it.

A knock on the door interrupted his internal debate. “Astra?” asked Cassian from the other side, “May I come in?”

“Yes, go right ahead!” Astra replied, trying to subtly close and hide his journal. Unfortunately for him, Cassian opened the door right away, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the hastily shut journal in Astra’s hand. Astra watched his eyes trace to the lute and could almost see Cassian’s brain whirring.

“Were you working on one of the songs you mentioned?” he asked, pleasantly. 

Astra had forgotten that he’d told Cassian he was writing his own songs. “Yes,” he admitted, “But it’s not very good.”

“Well, I doubt that. You are one of the most skilled musicians I’ve ever met.”

Astra could feel himself blushing. “Really? That can’t be—”

“I assure you that I’m being completely honest,” Cassian cut him off, “And I stand by what I said earlier. I’d love to hear anything you’ve composed.”

Cassian waited in silence, probably expecting some sort of response. Astra looked down at the journal in his hands. Should he trust Cassian with the song? He  _ was _ fond of music, it seemed—certainly more so than any of the others, but Astra wasn’t sure that his song was good enough. Cassian still didn’t speak, continuing to look at Astra expectantly.

Finally, after nearly a minute’s silence and deliberation, Astra came to a decision. “You can. . . you can hear it, if you like? I’ll play it for you.”

“I would like that very much.”

“I-okay. It’s probably no good,” he warned.

“Astra, I’m sure it’s lovely. Just play it.”

“Okay.”

And then he began to play. The lyrics were in common, as he’d planned to someday play this song for the others, and the melody was simple yet sweet, somewhere between a poetic recitation with music behind it and a song. It told of bittersweetness and nostalgia, of leaving and being left behind.

“ _ For spring the trees sprout leaves _

_ They douse themselves in green _

_ And love their new-growth gowns _

_ Displayed and by all seen _

_ “Come summer they grow grey _

_ Their beauty fading fast _

_ And mourn the faded clothes _

_ Fresh spring can never last _

_ “In autumn leaves turn red _

_ Their fiery glows so bright _

_ Trees adore this last hurrah _

_ Before cold winter’s night _

_ “But winter comes so soon _

_ And strips their branches bare _

_ Trees are far to lonely _

_ Without the leaves they wear _

_ “The leaves themselves don’t know _

_ How badly they are missed _

_ Reveling in their freedom _

_ They leap and twirl with bliss _

_ “But leaves don’t last alone _

_ They wither and they fade _

_ And trees are left behind _

_ Still where they’ve always stayed _

_ “At last the spring returns _

_ With greenery reborn _

_ Fresh leaves adorn the trees _

_ And they no longer mourn _

_ “And so the cycle goes _

_ And winter wakes from sleep _

_ Leaves care not for sorrow _

_ While trees must always weep” _

Astra couldn’t meet Cassian’s eyes as he played, turning his gaze down towards his lute. When the song finished, he was even more certain that it was horrible. Slowly, he looked up at Cassian, who was smiling widely. “That was wonderful, Astra!” he said.

“Do you really think so?” asked Astra, “Because I thought—”

“It was wonderful,” Cassian said, more firmly, “You should sing it for the others. I’m sure they’d enjoy it.”

The corner or Astra’s mouth twitched and he blushed, “Okay. If you really think so.”

“I do. Come on Mr. Musician.” Grinning, Astra followed him out.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Astra's song is a poem I wrote some time ago. I didn't have any plans for it, and it seemed his style. Sorry if it's really bad.


	4. Sariel & Vanden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was about time Sariel made her appearance.

“Sariel?” asked Vanden, poking his head into the kitchen. She stood at the counter, chopping up potatoes and carrots.

“Yes, Vanden?”

“I was wondering if you’d like some help? I know I’m not the best at cooking,” he chuckled a little, and she did too, both of them likely thinking about the toast he’d scorched. “But I would like to learn. And anyway, you and Boblem shouldn’t have to do all the work.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you,” she said, “You can finish chopping these up for me if you like.”

“Sure,” Vanden took the offered knife. Despite his dislike for vegetables, this seemed an easy enough task. He looked at the size she’d cut the other carrots and potatoes, and tried to mimic it. Though the correct size, the pieces were significantly more misshapen than her neat cubes. Still, he felt somewhat pleased with his accomplishment, and quite proudly declared to Sariel, “I’m done!”

She looked over at his work. “Good. Can you cut up some celery too? Not too much, just a handful’s worth.” She returned to making what was perhaps some sort of dough. Vanden couldn’t be certain.

As he cut the celery, Vanden hesitantly asked, “How are you, Sariel?”

“Same as ever,” she replied, “Why do you ask?”

“I just. . . I feel like of all of us, I know you the least. And I’d like to fix that.”

“I’d like to get to know you better too,” she replied.

“Right. Um, what do you like to do? For fun I mean.”

“That’s a difficult question,” she said quietly, “It’s been quite some time since I’ve done something for fun.”

“We’re going to do something fun, then. Before we leave for Frostguard, I’m taking you to do something fun. No arguing.”

“Okay.” He looked over his shoulder. She was smiling at him. After a moment she asked, “Well, Vanden, what do you do for fun?”

“I read. I ride horses. Other things too, but those are some favorites.”

“Well—stop!” she interrupted herself, “You need to cut the celery smaller than that!”

“Oh, sorry. Like this?”

“No,” she took the knife from him and demonstrated, “Like this.”

“Right.”

After he’d finished with the celery, Sariel had him make a salad, and then he sat on the counter while she made the vegetable pie he’d cut things up for. Dinner was good, but, though he never said it, Vanden thought the conversation while making it had been better.


End file.
